SIT
by Tiamath
Summary: Or, an argument between Inuyasha and Kagome, leading to some interesting revelations...WARNING, the effects of a suicide discussed.


**Disclaimer:** Yes, I own Inuyasha. I own the entire world. And if you believe that bull, then I own you too. Use your brains, people! 

Please Note:_ This is an interesting little one-shot I've been working on for over half a year. It isn't very long, but the subject matter I decided to deal with (Suicide and the differing cultural opinions surrounding the topic) is pretty heavy, and it took a long time to get it to the point where I was willing to submit even this draft. I would really appreciate it if you would let me know at the end of the fic whether you saw things that bother you or could be improved.

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**SIT,**

_or_, _an argument between Inuyasha and Kagome, leading to some interesting revelations...**

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"SIT, BOY!"

_WUMPH!_

…

The young monk strolled casually over to the deep hole in the ground and squatted next to the edge. He addressed the struggling figure conversationally.

"That last sit left quite a crater." The muddy half-demon growled and finally managed to raise his head. He spat the rich loam from his mouth with a vigor not entirely due to the taste, and proceeded to comb leaves from his hair, studiously ignoring the monk.

"I don't suppose you're going to tell me what that was all about."

"Hnnh."

"You're sure?"

The hanyou gave up the pretense and glared at the face peering down at him. "None of your damn business, monk. Why is it that you always think you have a right to ask?"

The young monk sighed and stood up. "Well, if you aren't going to talk I think I'll go meditate for a while. No doubt I will get the whole story from Sango later on—or Kagome." He decided to ignore the sudden pallor Inuyasha sported; at the mention of Kagome's name a mixture of the darkest rain clouds and the deepest caves of despair flooded across the inu-youkai's expressive face. A turbulent blend, and almost certainly volatile. Wisely the monk kept his thoughts to himself and settled down to wait for Inuyasha's emergence.

Miroku didn't have long to wait. Less than five minutes later the bedraggled hanyou crawled over the edge of the pit, still fighting the remnants of the rosary's spell. He glanced over at the monk who was, for all intents and purposes, deep in meditation.

"Oi, monk."

"…"

"Hey, Miroku, can you hear me?"

"…"

Golden eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Hope you can hear me, monk. Cause I just wanted to let you know that I'm going to tell Sango about that pretty girl about four villages back. Or was it three? A'course, it could have been both, knowing you…" There was no response from the monk and the hanyou let his voice trail off. He prodded the monk's shoulder. "Hey, are you even awake?"

A slight snore answered him.

"Keh, figures." Muttering about henati monks and bakas, Inuyasha stomped over to a tree on the opposite side of the clearing and, fuming, flung himself down beneath it. For a brief while, silence reigned.

"I don't even know what set Kagome off this time. All we were doing was looking at some of those little paintings she calls fo-toe-graphs. And we were having fun! She was showing me a portrait of her brother's birthday…and then she flipped the page of her album and there was this picture of her mother standing with this man…and I didn't even _say_ anything and she still burst into tears…"

On the monk's part there was silence. Inuyasha shifted uncomfortably and bent to the task of polishing the Tessaiga. "So of course, I asked her why she was crying."

No part of the monk's relaxed expression changed, but suddenly Inuyasha felt as if he had been rebuked. "What? So I told her to stop crying like a baka and tell me what's wrong. The point is she blew up for absolutely no reason. She went very still and, well, scary, and got these little flames in her eyes. And then she started to yell about me being an insensitive jerk and that she could cry if she felt like it and that if it bothered me I should go to Kikyou. And, well, you know the rest. "  
"…"

"I didn't even bring Kikyou up! I know it bothers Kagome so I haven't talked about her in weeks! I just didn't want her to cry. I wish I knew who that man was, that made Kagome cry. I'd make him pay."

"It was her father." The soft feminine voice caused Inuyasha to jump. Despite his advanced senses, he hadn't heard Sango's soft-footed approach. "I've seen Kagome to the well. It wasn't necessary, though. She's really upset; I pity any demon that doesn't have the sense to stay away from her just now."

"Hey! Can't you see we're having a private conversation here?"

Sango raised her eyebrow and looked first at the irate hanyou and then to the sleeping monk. Inuyasha turned an interesting shade and looked away. "I only know because I asked her about the picture yesterday. She didn't burst into tears then, though she looked unhappy. I wonder what set her off today?"

"Keh, she probably just wanted an excuse to sit me."

"I don't think so, Inuyasha." The demon-slayer lowered herself gracefully to the ground and gathered the untransformed Kilala in her arms. She continued, stroking the fire-cat's soft fur. "Kagome isn't vindictive, though she can act irrationally if her feelings escape her control. I wonder..." Sango ceased her inspection of the fire-cat's head and looked up. "Inuyasha, do you know what happened to her father?"

It struck Inuyasha as odd that he, in fact, did not know anything about Kagome's father, aside from the fact that he was never around. In the rare times that he and Kagome actually got along they had talked about their families; it was one of the things he had come to cherish about her, that she would be willing to listen to a hanyou about his stained, 'immoral' mother and father without providing judgement. So he knew, from her, all about Sota and Mrs. Hirugashi and Grandpa. He even knew (now at least) about Houjou. But never once, in all the time they had talked, had she mentioned her father.

Sango was talking again, he realized, and focused his ears towards her. "...told me, a couple of times, while we were at the hot springs. I don't think she would want me telling you, but I also think you'll need to know, in order to understand her." She looked directly at him.

"Her father left her family, Inuyasha. Not for another woman, not at his lord's command. He left...and at the time, there didn't seem to be a reason why. It nearly destroyed her mother. Kagome was six, old enough to remember...and also to remember the day the police, the warriors of her time, came to tell her mother that the man she loved was dead. By his own hand."

Inuyasha frowned, and for once considered carefully before he spoke. "Why? Had he been defeated in battle, that he felt the need to find an honourable death?"

Sango smiled, a small, sad smile. "Yes, but not one that you or I could understand. He had fought the battle within his mind, a terrible fiend against an angel of light. Kagome once told me that the Healers of her time call it Depression. There was a madness within him, not one that could be seen or perceived by those around him, but one that ate at his soul, day by day, until he no longer had the will or the strength to fight back. His actions caused the family great pain, and he, great guilt. In the end took his own life rather than live with the dishonour he felt his actions had earned. In his guilt, it seemed the only way out.

"Inuyasha, this is why Kagome fears for you; for all of us, but especially you. She sees in your willingness to die for Kikyou the same monster that destroyed her father. She has already seen one life destroyed by guilt. She does not want to see another life claimed by such an monster." Sango's voice became choked. "I should go see if Kaede needs help..." Dashing what appeared suspiciously like tears from her eyes, the demon slayer levered herself off the ground and walked slowly back in the direction she came, the little fire-cat still curled comfortingly in her arms. The stupefied Hanyou stared after her, his mouth working soundlessly.

"She's right, you know."

"What th—hey, aren't you supposed to be asleep?"

The violet-garbed man stood up and began to stretch. "One should never assume anything, Inuyasha. I said I was going to meditate, not sleep; and I can hear perfectly well in a meditative state."

"Keh. So what'd you mean, she's right?"

"Kagome. About her fears for you."

"Oh, please. Not you, too."

"No, think about it for a moment, Inuyasha. To us, your reaction and your promise to Kikyou is normal, even noble. However, Kagome is not one of us, really. She may come from Japan, but the culture she grew up with is so different from our own culture, in this era, that she might as well have come from another world." Miroku began to warm to his subject. "Maybe in her culture the sacrifice of life doesn't mean the same thing that it does here. She has mentioned such things before in my hearing." He looked up to find golden eyes staring blankly at him, and sighed.

"Inuyasha, what I am trying to say is this. Whatever your choice is with Kikyou, I am sure that it will be right…for this era. But it is unlikely that the core values that you and I share will be the same as the ones Kagome carries with her, and your choice will be incomprehensible to her." He leaned back against the tree. "In the values of her own time, Kagome's reaction is undoubtedly right."

"So what you're saying is that no matter which way I choose, I'll be wrong?"

"No, I'm saying that when you make your choice, you will have to consider not only to which girl you give your life but also which set of values you will live the rest of your life by. You are also a time traveler, Inuyasha, whether you like to remember it or not. If you choose Kikyou, and end your life, you will have fulfilled your duty in the eyes of your world. But if you choose Kagome, and choose to live, you will be just as honoured in hers." Miroku stood and brushed the bark off of his back. "I'm going to go make sure Sango is all right. Think on it, Inuyasha."

Inuyasha watched the monk stride off, leaving the white-haired hanyou alone with his thoughts. He had much to think about.

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So there you have it, folks. Introspective? Angst? Who knows! Thanks for reading!


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